


All The Light We Cannot See

by youknowmyname



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Blind Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Minor Angst, Scarification, Sculpture, Young Safin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youknowmyname/pseuds/youknowmyname
Summary: A young assassin and blind sculptor find beauty in each other.
Relationships: Rami Malek/Reader, Safin (James Bond)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	All The Light We Cannot See

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request from Tumblr! The reader is blind and gender-neutral. And yes, I shamelessly named it after the book. I'm sorry the book was so damn good! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ;)

There was something about them that Safin fell for. 

He wasn’t one for emotions. In fact, he was a cold-blooded killer and nothing more. The world had never given him any kindness. All it had done was strip his family, dignity, everything. Emotions were simply nonexistent in Safin’s world. Life was a game and nothing more. He was SPECTRE’s lapdog and always did as they pleased. Safin was a ruthless killer who hid behind a mask to hide his true self. 

But if he felt nothing, why did he feel the urge to hide his face? The scars had been burned into his skin ever since he was a child. He was young, yet looked old. At a glance, the scars seemed normal, but they truly a monstrosity. He was a monster, he knew he was. But nobody had ever cared about him or comforted him. People were targets in his eyes. Every last one of them. 

Except for y/n.

Y/n’s father was an infamous scientist Dr.Morte. He had worked for Spectre and thousands of organizations over the years. Morte was known for kidnapping agents and horribly disfiguring them. Safin was corrupt, but Morte had been far in the deep end. When assigned the hit, Safin had no problem killing him. The death had been rather personal. Morte had been one of the many men responsible for the death of Safin’s family, and disfigurement of his face. The burns were a reminder of Morte and his actions. Safin didn’t kill him because of the crimes he had committed against others. He killed Morte for what he had done to him; strangled him with the very gas he used against Safin. Seeing his eyes roll into the back of his head as he pleaded for help only satisfied Safin. 

As Morte took his final breath, Safin had heard footsteps in the room above him. He was instructed to kill every suspect in the building. As he traveled up with his finger on the trigger, he had walked into a dark room full of thousands of clay sculptures. Each had depicted a range of faces, small and big, happy and sad. A noise had startled Safin, causing him to point his weapon in the direction of a young person. They wore rags with a frail figure. There face was expressionless as they looked at him with the saddest clear eyes he had ever seen. They had blinked a few times, still looking directly at Safin. But their sad eyes never moved once from his form. Instead of being scared, they were calm in the heat of the moment. Safin’s breathes were heavy and stressed, yet it did not once scare them. They did not cower or cry. All they did was haunt him with those eyes. 

Safin’s finger fiddled with the trigger. Why was he hesitating? His hands shook as everything became blurry. A feeling emerged in his body that he had never felt before. Was it sympathy, or confusion? Everybody who had seen him was scared of him for his repulsive features. But not them. It seemed like they knew what was going to happen to them, and that they had accepted it. 

A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he lowered the gun, his finger gently sliding off of the trigger.

\-----

“Why would you let me see you?” 

Out of all the people Saifn had met, they were the only person who had any form of sympathy for. The reason y/n had never reacted to Safin’s weapon was that they couldn’t see him. Y/n had an amazing sense of hearing and smell. They thought there were going to die, but Safin (in a sudden act) couldn’t bring himself to kill them. Y/n had been a victim of there own father’s work. Being blinded at a young age, they accustomed quickly to it. As a form of expression, y/n had used sculpture. All of the faces they felt were transformed into identical sculptures. 

Whenever he saw them, Safin felt the urge to protect them as they were the only person that ever mattered him.

Safin turned over to y/n, greeted with there big clear eyes. They had a small, curious smile on there face as they moved towards them. Clay spots were all over there face as they had been working on a new project.

“I’m not special. You wouldn’t want to feel me.”

Tilting there head, they huffed but kept persisting. “Why? I love to feel all kinds of faces!”

“Not mine, y/n. You wouldn’t-”

“Wouldn’t what?”

Y/n had grabbed Safin’s gloved hand, pulling him towards her. Her eyes, although emotionless, were begging. Y/n had known Safin for three years and not once had ever felt his body. They saw Safin has a friend and someone they could trust. After years of abuse and torment, Safin (although cold) had treated them with the respect that no one had ever done. It always had felt like whenever Y/n was close to Safin, he would be so far. 

“Like my face. It’s…”

“Different?” A shocked chuckle escaped their lips. “Safin, have you not realized I can’t see anything? I’m not phased, as you can clearly see.”

“Just..” Y/n was close to Safin as they inhaled the cologne he wore. It smelt expensive and was a trademark of Safin. Holding there hand, they played around with his gloved things. They yearned to feel his skin and see who he truly was. “Let me see you. I don’t  _ see _ the point in you hiding from me…”

“You always joke about your vision…” Safin had noticed, a sigh escaping from his lips. Y/n did have a point. They truly couldn’t see what he was. They were one of the only people who hadn’t run away from him (yet). If they were going to be with him for a while, then what was the point in hiding behind a mask and gloves. “I will allow it. But you won’t...scream, right?”

“Scream? Safin, if I scream and run, where will I go? I will most likely hit a wall.” You joked. Safin’s hands began to lighten in your grasp. Did he not perceive the joke well. Squeezing his hand, you subtly smiled, “I won’t run, I promise.” 

Sighing, Safin removed his gloves so they could feel his hands. Y/n’s gentle fingers hesitated with his face, wanting to be gentle. What could be on Safin’s face that he had been so afraid of? He was smart enough to know that they were as blind as a bat. 

Their fingers gently caressed his cheeks. It started off with a few fingers which responded to a wrinkled complexion. Furrowing their eyebrows, y/n placed their hands on his cheeks. It wasn’t just wrinkled, but burn marks. They didn’t even need sight to see them. Whatever had been on his face was extremely severe. All of the wrinkles were deep and long. The burns were rough and textured. 

But once did it disgust them. Safin had some of the most interesting skin they had ever felt. It wasn’t boring but different. Y/n liked different. It would be fascinating to sculpt. 

“Your skin is so...unqiue. I’ve never felt someone like this before...” Y/n had pointed out. Feeling Safin’s eyebrow soften at the response, they quickly reassured him. “That’s a good thing. I like unique things…” 

Safin froze at the response. Then he had realized. Had y/n complimented him? All a sudden, he felt flustered as his cheeks began to burn. Y/n had cupped his face, a smile. 

“You liked my compliment?”

Safin was caught off guard, too distracted by there face. Their skin was soft to the touch, gliding over his skin. He felt like he was being touched by an angel. “Y-yes, I did. Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” You replied. Your hands became more liberal as you explored his face. The further up you moved, the more you could feel the pain in his face. His face was scrunched along with his whole body, tense by your touch. Not because of you, but he was afraid. 

“So sad…” They mumbled. Safin had leaned into your hands, enjoying the soft touch. His ungloved hands wrapped around there soft hands as he pulled them close. A small noise escaped from y/n’s mouth as he pulled them in, surprised by Safin’s sudden move. Safin had usually been distant from you was now pulling them in. They could feel his cheek nestle in your hand, a dreamy sigh escape from his lips. 

“Y/n?” He asked, looking into your clear eyes. 

“Yes, Safin?”

“You’re never going to leave me, right?”

His voice was rather shaky as he left out of his vulnerable side. It was a side that you were quite unfamiliar with. They knew Safin as someone who felt very little emotion and hated the world that surrounded him. After years of endless speculation, they finally had come to the realization that Safin hated the world because he believed it hated him for the way he looked. The only person he had seemingly ever taken any interest in was them and only them. 

“No, why would you think that..?” They perplexed. Feeling his scarred skin, you then had realized. “Oh...Safin. Of course not.” 

“Your the man who saved from that place. We’ve been together for three years. I am here for the man inside, not the man outside.” Their fingers moved pieces of his ebony hair, which had begun slowly graying. “I like the man on the outside just as much.” 

A smile had curved on his face. It was the first time that you had ever felt such emotion on his face. Safin’s hands brought you close to his face. Before you knew it, your lips had connected. It was a sweet embrace. His hand’s held your cheeks as you held onto his chest for security. Safin’s lips were plush like bread as they overpowered your own lips. He held and treated you like you were made of glass. It had been the first time you had ever had romantic feelings in your life. It took you three years to realize that the love of your life was standing right in front of. Even if you were blind, Safin’s face never mattered to you. All that mattered was that you loved the man that you couldn’t even see. All you ever needed from Safin was to feel his damaged skin against your clay ridden hands. 

To sculpt him. 

To comfort him. 

_ To love him.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you could leave a kudos or comment, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!


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